


The Magnificent Sevenway

by kateyboosh, Terrantalen



Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Authoritative Top Julian, Biting, Blindfolds, He's a brat too but, M/M, Noel Is A Doe Eyed Sub, Rad Collab, Romance at this orgy? Look who's writing, Sort of? - Freeform, You bet there's romance at this orgy, and some discussion of Julian's attachment to a certain snack, close enough, wait is this a sevenway?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 09:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateyboosh/pseuds/kateyboosh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrantalen/pseuds/Terrantalen
Summary: "When you were talking about a threesome, I was trying to work out if I've had a sevensome. I think I have.I haven't….I have."He writes the prompts himself, really, and we just slide in and quietly fill them, full of glee.
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	The Magnificent Sevenway

When Noel opens the door, Julian isn’t _completely_ surprised by what’s behind it. 

He’d picked up on the fact that something wasn’t right from the way Noel had been acting in the cab, which was in an emotional no-man’s land between excited, randy, and snippy, griping about Julian’s outfit one moment, then stealing Julian’s tie and wrapping it around his own neck the next.

It had all been a bit weird, the way Noel had kept his hand near, around, in proximity to, and down the front of Julian's jeans the entire cab ride over. Not exactly out of the ordinary, really, but definitely strange when they were headed _to_ a party, rather than _away_ from one.

So, when they arrived at the house and Noel pulled him upstairs immediately, pushed open the bedroom door and they discovered five people ranging from almost to mostly naked on the floor, Julian feels he should have seen it coming. In fact, he feels like he's probably going to see some of _them_ coming. 

Internally, Julian groans. He turns to Noel, and Noel, of course, tries to play it off like he doesn’t know how this could have happened. His eyes go wide, doe-like. He gasps, his hand floats up to cover his mouth before he laughs a dirty, throaty chuckle. 

It’s times like this that Julian agrees with him. He’s no actor.

But, whether or not he knew exactly what was behind the door (he did) doesn’t really matter. It’s clearly working him up, and he’s done his damnedest to get Julian worked up too. And it would probably be both awkward and impossible to drag Noel back downstairs, then chase down their cabbie so that they could turn around and leave.

Julian sighs.

He’s always talked about it. Threeways, fourways, fiveways, as many multiple ways as he can get; the thought of all those hands on his body, of all those mouths and tongues, arses, vaginas, and cocks near him, or on him, or in him, clearly something he’s fantasized about for years.

He loves to be loved, loves to be the center of attention. Clearly, he thinks Julian might like it too. He’s presented the orgy to him like he’s surprised, but obviously delighted by it, like anyone would be, like it’s not an orgy, but instead an ice cream parlor run by elves under a rosebush in the back garden of a magic castle that charges nothing but a smile for a cone of any flavor ice cream imaginable. 

Noel's smile, when it wipes the snow-white expression of false shocked innocence off of his pointy face, is anything but vanilla.

It's a complete contrast to his body language. He scrapes a hand through his hair like a nervous bride on her wedding night. He toes the carpet, wiggles his hips, reaches his hands out to press at Julian's clothing with the lightest touch, like Julian might break if he puts more than a finger on him. He shrugs.

"'S long as we're here, now, Ju," he mumbles, fingers playing with the buttons of Julian's jacket, "might as well. You know?"

Julian does not know. He has never known, nor will he ever know. The definition of the word "know" has never crossed his mind before. Julian’s no saint, but not with this now completely naked gathering of individuals, not in this lifetime, not in the next, and certainly not in that… _configuration_ that's taking shape on the carpet in front of him. 

A high-pitched "yes!" shoots its way out of the tangle of limbs on the floor. It's not remarkable, based on the noises and exclamations Julian's heard since entering the room, but it's  
followed by a buzzing, humming _vibration_ that ratchets up and up and up with every passing second that is. 

Noel's eyes go big again at a sound of assent, big and soupy and pleading, _begging_ Julian to just agree, to just _let them_.

Julian's eyes go small, small enough that they say, _Fielding, not a chance_.

Noel changes tactics. He slides his erection against Julian’s thigh while he palms Julian through his trousers, all illusions of breathy, innocent virginity disappearing in a blink. “Ju...” he says, looking down at the floor, at the rather rapid escalation that seems to be taking place there. “Couldn’t we just... I mean, don’t look like they’d mind if we...”

Julian knows what Noel means and he also knows how to misunderstand him just enough to avoid either of them catching a venereal disease. He guides Noel toward the bed, then pulls him down over him so Noel can watch the action. “Look but don’t touch.”

"But- Ju, why-" Noel starts, squirming, craning his neck to catch sight of the cluster of limb origami starting to form in the furthest corner. 

Julian's trapped. They're _not_ going down there, no way in hell, and they're _not_ going downstairs. Not with the raging erection straining to burst out of Noel's drainpipes, not with the uncomfortably hard hard-on lying in wait in his jeans. 

Fuck.

Julian strips his jacket off in one swift movement and spreads it out on the bed. The duvet looks clean enough, unrumpled and neat, but he doesn't trust it, doesn't trust any of it, can't be sure that the seething pit of people fucking and sucking each other to paradise over in the corner hadn't adjourned to newer, more exciting pastures for their sex romp after they'd gotten bored of the bed. 

Noel whimpers, neglected, and Julian looks to the heavens for patience.

He's rewarded with a bird's eye view of his own face gazing back at him. 

Fantastic. Great. Excellent.

Can't have an orgy without mirrors on the ceiling, can you? 

Noel squirms and makes like he's going to get up to do something; adjust the drape of the duvet, dim the lights, maybe walk around with a little silver tray offering refreshments and lube and johnnies in all flavors and sizes. He settles somewhat when Julian's hand reaches to pull the hem of his t-shirt over his head, Julian's hands sliding over his already-taut nipples. 

His "Can't we just _try_ once-" is cut off as Julian makes short work of his zip. His "Julian, just- five minutes, please?" dissolves into a shallow gasp when Julian's fingers skate across the front of his pants. 

Julian’s tie is still hanging from his neck, a purple silk arrow pointing straight down to his cock. “You won’t last five minutes,” Julian says, dancing more quick touches along Noel’s erection.

Noel’s breath hitches. He wiggles his hips, presses his cock into Julian’s hand. “Course I will.”

“Will you?” Julian rounds his fingers over the head of Noel’s cock and Noel ruts into his palm before he seems to realize he shouldn’t. His pants are slightly damp against Julian’s hand.

Already. 

Julian arches a brow at him.

“Ju,” Noel whines, but Julian cuts him off. 

“Prove it.” He tugs on the tie, pulls Noel down toward him. He brushes Noel’s long, dark hair away from his ear. “Five minutes up here,” he says, sliding his hand down Noel’s back to cup his arse. “Then, if you still want to go down there…”

Noel glances over the side of the bed, his big eyes glassy with lust. He bites his lip, then nods. “Alright.”

Thankfully, Noel isn’t thinking about how they’re going to know when five minutes has passed. He’s not thinking about anything except his cock. Julian can work with that. He can work with it very well.

A minute for each person in the panting flesh heap on the floor. This is going to be a piece of cake.

Yeah, Julian knows that the sevensome, or the foursome, or the fivesome has always appealed to Noel, all those mouths and hands and tongues, but he’s going to foil the old “strength in numbers” rule. Those strangers might present Noel with novelty, but Julian’s had years of practice. He knows every place Noel likes to be touched, and in what order to place those touches to make him melt into a limp puddle in Julian’s arms before he’s even strayed near Noel’s bare cock. 

In short, if the writhing mass of moans and gasps in the corner is quantity, then Julian is quality. He can't help the satisfied expression that slides across his face, plays about his lips.

He tugs on the end of the silk and Noel looks down at him. Julian follows the tie all the way up to the base of Noel’s throat. The soft skin of Noel’s collarbone is against the backs of his knuckles as he loosens the knot then pulls it free.

Noel no longer knows where to look. They can both hear the noises coming from the floor, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the silk running through Julian’s fingers, can’t seem to make himself do anything but breathe and slowly grind himself against Julian as he straddles him.

“You want to go down there?” Julian asks.

Noel’s eyes flick toward the floor.

"No?" he gulps.

Julian lets the tie slide through his fingers again. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Noel says, a little more confident this time. He rocks his hips against Julian, thin, damp cotton against denim, and as if two, or possibly three, of the people on the carpet can feel it happening, a flurry of moans fill the room.

Noel blinks, his lips parted and gone soft, and Julian measures the tie out, feels how it tapers as it smooths through his fingers. Then, he touches the flat of Noel’s stomach, then his chest, and Noel leans into his palm, presses his dick into Julian’s, letting Julian feel him in turn. His eyes crackle, waiting to be let loose. 

Julian nods, and the Julian in the mirror overhead nods back at him. He knows exactly what he’s going to do with his five minutes. 

“Stay still,” Julian says, hand brushing over Noel’s nipple. He watches Noel’s eyes drop shut at the touch. Julian loves him like this, loves when his features go from electric to calm in the space it takes him to lay his palm flush with Noel’s chest.

The vibrating’s back from the corner, about as loud and varied as a buzzsaw whose owner keeps stretching the cord just past its length. As Noel breathes in, Julian reaches to knot the tie behind his head. 

He slides his hands to the back of Noel’s neck, gently guides him down. Noel’s nose presses into Julian’s cheek, then Julian adjusts him so that their lips meet. He kisses Noel slow, savoring him, then devouring him. Noel moans.

Julian strokes his back, runs his palms over Noel’s thighs. The feel of him coiling and bunching, relaxing and tensing as he rolls against Julian’s cock, as he gasps against Julian’s mouth, as they breathe the same mouthfuls of air; it’s easier than Julian would have thought to forget what happening on the floor, what’s going on only feet away.

Noel’s fingers creep to Julian’s shirt and start plucking at Julian’s buttons. He wants the shirt gone. Julian wants it gone, too. He wants to feel _all_ of Noel, doesn’t want anything separating them whatsoever.

Later. That’ll be for later.

For now, Julian will settle for being able to touch Noel everywhere.

“Take off your pants,” Julian breathes against Noel’s cheek.

His command has the intended effect. Noel sits up so that he can undress himself. Julian watches every twist of his lean body both in front of him and above him. Noel’s chest and Noel’s back, the reveal of his cock and his arse, both able to be seen, nearly at once, just by looking either ahead or above.

He’s starting to warm to the ceiling mirror a little. 

Noel starts to lean over him again, but Julian holds him up. “Stay,” he says. “I want to look at you.”

Noel’s lips part slightly. His tongue peeks out and licks at them. He sits back on Julian’s lap and Julian slides his thumbs across Noel’s tits, down his stomach, down to the dip of his waist.

“Beautiful,” Julian says, lightly sliding his hand along the underside of Noel’s cock. He thumbs Noel’s slit and Noel arches his hips forward, leans his shoulders back. The line of his stomach stretches and Julian sees Noel’s face tip back in the mirror, the soft light in the room working absolute magic on his strong bones, on the flat planes of his body.

Julian isn’t the only one who notices. In the writhing pile of bodies on the floor, there are more eyes than just his own looking up at the display on the bed.

“They’re watching you,” Julian purrs.

Noel’s ribcage expands like the bellows on an accordion. “Who?” he asks, almost like he’s forgotten they aren’t alone.

“Everyone.” Julian guides Noel’s hands down to his fly, then reaches up and runs his thumb over Noel’s bottom lip. “Give them a good show.” 

These are the magic words. 

In his everyday life, Noel likes an audience. Doesn’t ever mind putting on a bit of a show, whether he’s on a stage or on the street, doesn’t mind the stares or the whispers or the people who nudge their companions and then look back, appraising, eyes wandering across his stomach, down past his belt loops, lingering at the front of his drainpipes. 

Of the two of them, Julian’s the one that minds the looks, especially the hungry, covetous ones directed at Noel, and Noel knows it. Julian encouraging what’s about to happen, _reminding_ him that people are looking at him, looking at _them_... 

If Noel can’t persuade Julian to play with the fivesome on the floor, after _that_ , he doesn’t mind performing for them separately. And Noel’s always felt the strongest performing as one half of a double act. 

The grin that Noel manages around Julian’s thumb as he sucks it into his mouth is nothing short of wicked. It goes straight to Julian's cock, the eyes he could feel moving over him a moment ago an afterthought.

Noel tilts his head up and opens his mouth. He lets Julian’s hand drop onto the bed, then he runs his fingers lightly over Julian’s zip, parting the fabric until he can feel the press of metal. He can’t see Julian’s fingers curl against the duvet.

The pairs of eyes watching from the corner can, though. Breathy moans and little choked whimpers filter over from the pile, and Julian does his best to ignore them and focus on the steady movement of Noel’s hand and the silky curve of his bare back reflected in the mirror above.

When Noel gets his zip down, he runs his palm over the open front of Julian’s jeans, feeling the heat of his cock through the soft cotton of his pants. He’s focused fully on Julian; Julian can feel Noel’s eyes on him even through the silk of the tie. There’s concentration in his hands as he traces the seam of Julian’s waistband, dipping in to touch his skin before sliding his jeans and pants down. He raises his hips until Noel’s got them down far enough for his cock to spring loose up against his shirt.

From this angle, he’s the only one who can see Noel’s face behind the curtain of hair falling past his cheekbones, the only one who can feel Noel’s breath on his bare skin as he dips his head, seeking. 

The blindfold doesn’t slow him. He moves the same as he would on any other night with his eyes open wide in the darkness, parting his lips. With Julian’s body underneath him, it’s like waking up in the middle of the night and walking around his flat in the dark, confident that he knows every inch of the floorboards, like dropping the needle on Exile on Main St. and feeling the warm crackle of anticipation flood him before the music starts. 

Julian feels it like a hot rush through his entire body, familiar and completely intoxicating at once. The first brush of Noel’s lips to the head of his cock is the same every time, too. It’s fucking glorious, immediate and confident, even with the blindfold. He’s got Julian in his mouth before he can exhale, his other hand coming up to wrap around everything he hasn’t gotten to yet. 

Julian closes his eyes and tucks his fingers behind Noel’s ear, tracing the curve with his thumb. He can feel Noel smile around him before his tongue presses against the underside of Julian’s cock and he licks and sucks his way to the top. He’s going slow, every pull of his mouth as luxurious as it is unhurried, long up-and-down slides that end at his fist and start again, slow as a turning ocean tide.

Julian knows what he’s about. Noel isn’t normally the type of lover he’d describe as _oceanic_. Usually, he’s eager and restless, and all over him with a catchy enthusiasm that leaves Julian reeling; but Noel is craftier than he gets credit for, even when he is in a state. 

Surely, he’s thinking that Julian won’t interrupt a blow-job like this, that he’ll get through his five minutes without a problem, and then find his way into the melee below in a snap.

If it was just the pair of them, Julian definitely wouldn’t stop him. He’d let him continue the unhurried cock-worship all night if he was so inclined, but it isn’t just the two of them, and Noel would probably get bored around the third hour anyway. 

Julian should move things on. He opens his eyes and sees upturned faces, peeking up, then looking down at whatever _parts_ they’re meant to be attending. The hedonists on the floor shoot quick darting glances up into the mirror, taking in as much of Noel’s pale, arching back and round arse as they can while he undulates between Julian’s legs. 

At least Noel is doing what he was asked and giving a good show. It’s a master class, honestly. As much as he finds it bizarre, the whole orgy situation, he can’t help feeling slightly smug over it, too. Any one of them would trade places with him in a moment, he’s sure.

How could they not?

Noel is beautiful enough that he could pull focus from a burning lorry if he wanted and he’s vamping like that’s precisely his aim, the tart. He makes it easy for Julian to forget the other people in the room. 

Even if Noel hasn’t forgotten them yet, he will soon.

“Have I told you lately how gorgeous you are?” Julian asks.

Noel’s whole body stutters, then resumes moving. _No, but feel free_...

Julian smiles. He drifts his fingers to Noel’s shoulders. “You’re lovely. Perfect.” He traces up to Noel’s neck, up through his long hair and to the base of his skull, then under the sharp edge of his jaw. “I’m looking at you and I can’t stop. No one can.” Noel moans and Julian gasps. He bites his lip before he goes on. “You’re utterly fucking captivating,” Julian says, drawing each word out.

Noel likes _utterly fucking captivating_. His tongue slides and flattens over the head of Julian’s cock before he takes Julian as far as he can get him without gagging. “God,” Julian says, hearing himself with a slight latency; he’s closer than he realized. He feels his balls drawing up, feels the tension coiling between his thighs. He’s very tempted to just let Noel finish him, but, whether it’s one-upmanship or a desire to have his own way, or just divine intervention, Julian groans and then says the first and only thing that enters his mind. “You’re like… Wotsits.”

Noel snorts and then pulls off him. “What?” he asks through a grin. “Wotsits?”

Julian feels the tension ebb. He runs his thumb over Noel’s spit-slick lips, wishes he could see Noel’s eyes. “Yeah. Bit bad for me, but I can’t give them up.”

“Think that makes me more like cigarettes, Ju.”

“Except I’ll quit cigarettes someday. Probably.” Noel smiles. Julian cups his jaw and gently pulls him forward. Noel drifts up on his skinny arms, leaning over him, surrounding them both with his long hair he bends down. “I’ll never give up Wotsits.”

Noel grins, secret and beautiful and pleased, and when Julian kisses him, nothing else exists. 

He rolls Noel onto his side and then onto his back, kissing him breathless. When he stops, Julian has him lying next to him, his head pillowed on his shoulder and his hand reaching for Julian’s cock.

Julian intercepts him, lacing their fingers together while he buries his nose in Noel’s hair. “Honestly, if you could see yourself,” he whispers as silky-soft as he can.

Noel shivers slightly and that’s before Julian starts tracing the edge of his nipple.

Noel bites his bottom lip and his hand tightens around Julian’s. Julian thumbs his nipple and Noel kicks at the duvet. “Ju,” he whispers.

Julian hums, partially in answer, partially in simple enjoyment, touching and tracing and watching the pink of Noel's skin tighten. He flicks the pad of his thumb over Noel's nipple again, and watches Noel swallow thickly. He squirms at the next pass, huffs a breath that sounds like Julian's name as he licks his lips. His cock twitches and the muscle in his bare, beautiful stomach tightens when Julian's hand drifts over to the opposite side of his chest to start all over again.

Julian nearly breaks right then, nearly forgets where they are and what they're doing and the five minute wager, nearly leans down and takes him in his mouth and sucks the life out of him.

"Ju'n?"

But his name is a question now, a heated whisper, Noel's fingers flexing then loosening around his. 

Julian remembers the night before, Noel capping his marker pens, leaning over him and tossing them in a clatter on the side table. The both of them were drained of words by that point in the night. Neither had needed them as Julian had caught Noel's eye just before he crawled into his lap. He'd curled his fingers into the collar of Julian's jumper, his head resting heavily on Julian's shoulder, and Julian had held him there, arms looped around his hips, skin warm against Julian's wrists through his thin t-shirt. 

When he had felt Noel's body start to loosen, his breath going softer, smoother, evening out, a few words had crept back to Julian. He'd whispered them in between a kiss to the top of Noel's head, a hand rubbing slow circles between his shoulderblades until he'd started to get drowsy himself. 

"Ju'n? Don't stop," Noel had mumbled, shifting in his lap, pressing his nose into Julian's collarbone. He'd done his best to keep his hand moving as Noel nestled against him, fidgeted and then settled.

"You too, Julian," he'd whispered back, the hand in Julian's collar going slack. He'd dropped off before Julian could answer him.

Julian answers him now with a firm, slow press of his lips to the base of Noel's throat, tongue and teeth scraping down over his collarbone. 

He's everything, all at once, always. Soft and sweet and vulnerable one night, bringing Julian to an orgy the next. He's absolutely fucking maddening and utterly fucking captivating, and Julian wants him to know it before they're through here. He wants to touch Noel everywhere and then sink into him, wants to reflect that intoxicating duality right back at him in the fucking crystal clear mirror hanging on the ceiling. 

Noel gasps his name. It's insistent. It's still a question. 

It's, _What you doing? Can you touch me? Can I watch yet?_

Julian could answer. He could say, "Running out your five minutes. I am touching you. And no, you can't watch yet," but that would be telling. 

First, Julian wants to hear his name again, and then he wants to hear a different set of questions. One that ends with a gasped little _please_ , preferably, followed by a question from him, and a groaned "No" from Noel.

They're not there yet, but they will be, soon. Clock's ticking, and Julian's still half-dressed.

Julian pulls their joined hands to his mouth, flicking his tongue over Noel's knuckles, pressing little slow kisses as he goes, still circling his nipple with a fingertip. He can feel the tension and the want building in Noel's body with every touch, but he keeps his eyes on Noel's face, on the pink creeping up his cheeks, neon bright against purple silk in the dim light of the bedroom. 

Julian hears Noel's hips jerk when he pinches his nipple, hears his legs sliding against the duvet. Closer.

He skates his hand away from Noel's chest to brace himself on the mattress, levering himself up to finish unbuttoning his shirt. 

Noel's squirming and trying to look around even with the blindfold on, his face turning toward Julian, cock straining against his stomach. "Ju, where'd you go?" he pants. His hand stretches out, seeking, and hits Julian's bare side, just underneath his ribs. His lips go loose right around the time Julian's balled-up shirt hits the pillows above his head, and then his fingers are scrabbling at Julian's hips, tangling into his loose jeans. 

"Wait," Julian tells him. 

He peels Noel's fingers out of his pocket, shuffles forward, and skates his hands down the length of Noel's arms. The circle of his palm envelops Noel's wrists, then his elbows, then the lean curl of muscle in his bicep as Julian props his arms over his head, tucking his wrists together neatly. 

Julian nearly laughs at all of it as he slides off the bed and steps backwards onto the carpet, out of his boots. He stretches to his full height, rolling his shoulders, before his pants and jeans follow. He bends to peel his socks off. Having sex in proximity to an orgy while wearing socks? Not erotic in the least. 

As if someone over in the corner agrees with him, or with the sight of him as he stands up completely naked, he hears a hissed _yes_ , followed by an actual _growl_. He laughs then, at the situation, at the pure ridiculousness of the room and every one of its occupants. 

He feels his chest tighten as Noel turns to find him at the sound, his mouth quirked into a little grin. 

As much as Julian didn't want to be in this room with these people five minutes ago, strange, greedy eyes dancing over the pair of them, fuck it, he thinks, tossing his socks on top of Noel's mismatched ones on the carpet. Let them watch. 

When it comes down to it, everyone can stare, everyone can look, everyone can ogle, but Julian's the only one that really sees Noel. 

He gets back on the bed and swings himself over Noel's body, laid out and waiting. 

He dips down low enough that Noel must be able to feel the raw, bare-skinned heat of him, the way he cranes up to try to press them together from shoulder to hip. He inhales sharply, his chest expanding, brushing against Julian's, just as Julian lets his cock drag across Noel's stomach. 

"Oh, fuck," Noel whimpers. 

Julian feels Noel's body go stiff, watches the tendons in his neck stretch and tense before he flops back onto the bed. 

"Julian? Please, touch me. Please?"

Nearly there.

He reaches for Noel's ankles then, curling his fingers around them, drawing Noel's legs up to his chest.

"Really, Ju?" Noel gasps. 

Julian hums. He skates his hands down the inside of Noel's thighs, feels him warm and tensed and so beautifully his.

"Five minutes are up," Julian answers. "You still want to go down there?"

Noel laughs breathlessly, like he can’t believe what’s happened to him. He grips the duvet above his head. “I hate you,” he says.

Julian nips under his kneecap. Noel’s leg jerks and he squeaks but his hands stay put. Julian smirks. “That a ‘yes’, or…?”

“No. It’s no, isn’t it?” Noel wiggles, tries to find something to press his cock against. It’s a beautiful sight to see. “Christ, Ju. Come on.” 

Not quite a groan, that. Little too much strop, not quite enough desperation. Julian thinks he could do better. He kisses the inside of Noel’s knee, cups and then kisses the other. 

Noel huffs, then shivers when Julian dusts his fingers down the back of his thighs. He bites his lip. The mattress creaks as he shifts his hips.

Julian slides his hand back up to Noel’s mid-thigh and holds him. He kisses once, quick, opposite of where his hand is, telegraphs the open-mouthed kiss that follows. He drags his lower lip over him slowly, slips just the slightest edge of tongue against Noel’s skin like he’s sampling the most delicate, unique, and delicious thing known to man, like he’ll never have it again and needs to savor it. 

At the first hint of incisor, Noel makes a sound low in his throat. Julian watches his cock pulse, feels himself respond in kind.

He closes his eyes. He needs to if he’s going to be able to make this work. 

He presses his nose into Noel’s thigh, opens his mouth and lets Noel feel his teeth again, another preview, _this is where we’re going_. “They’re watching,” Julian reminds him. He doesn’t need to tell him to make it good. Noel does that on his own. His thigh bunches in Julian’s palm, goes tight as Julian lowers his lips to kiss him again. Rough hair, clean skin, and firm muscle all teeter sideways, slip out of his hand, spread for him. 

That’s right, Julian thinks. Just a little more.

He follows him down, waits as long as he can stand it, then sinks his teeth into Noel’s thigh. He hears the sharp intake of Noel’s breath, the shift of fabric being wrung in his hands as he holds on. He’s ready. Julian sucks onto him, turns his head, lets his teeth rasp against his skin, just on the edge of too hard, right where he knows Noel likes it.

He hears the confirmation of that, too. The catch at the back of Noel’s throat before the spill of sound. “Oh, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Noel pants. Julian bites a little harder; lets go. Noel picks his head up off the bed and drops it back with a soft thud. “Ju’un,” he slurs, “don’t stop.”

Julian plants a palm on his hip. Noel presses up into his grip, anticipating another bite, but Julian just breathes over his pinkened skin. He looks up toward Noel’s face. His fingers are tucked under the edge of the mattress, holding on. Obviously, the duvet wasn’t cutting it. 

“So, the floor, was it?”

“Fuck.” Noel pulls the edge of the mattress up, the muscles in his arms and chest go taut. _“No.”_

“Good,” Julian purrs. “Glad you’re happy up here.”

“God, I—” 

Whatever Noel wants to say is lost in a moan as Julian bites down again. He noses past Noel’s cock, leaving it untouched, then sits up. 

He expects a room hosting an orgy will be well-outfitted with supplies and isn’t disappointed. On the nightstand next to the bed, there is an actual assortment of lubes, all the way from banana-flavored through one labeled _Industrial Strength_ in menacing, red letters. Julian is nicely endowed, but he doesn’t think anyone could run so much as a cotton gin off his cock, or anyone else’s. He leans over Noel’s body again, through the welcoming gate of his thighs, and selects one that will apparently taste of bubblegum. 

Noel fidgets underneath him. “What’re you doing?”

Julian sits back. The lube is cool in his palm and he brushes it against the reddened skin his teeth left behind. Noel’s hips leap up. “Getting something.”

Noel's huffed breaths are loud enough to drown out some of the sounds coming out of the corner as he waits, nails itching into the bed. He's in that delicious state where he knows Julian is about to give him another taste, so he'll wiggle around for a bit, sigh and shift his hips, and then melt once Julian touches him. 

It's been five minutes, Julian reasons, and he's absolutely gorgeous like this, pink-cheeked and pliant. Why not try for five more?

A little pump, and the smallest amount of sticky sweet scent drifts into the room, confectionery on a light breeze. Julian dabs a bit of lube on Noel's nipples like he's brushing a mascaraed eyelash off his cheek, and Noel's torso writhes underneath him when he dips down to swipe his tongue over them for a taste. 

It sounds like Noel's lashes are fluttering under the blindfold when he pants out Julian's name. He sounds warm, hot, melted, fucking gorgeous. A bit surprised, too.

"Has someone-? Someone's got candyfloss?" he stutters.

"Mmm. Bubblegum," Julian responds, chasing his tongue around the edge of Noel's nipple, licking him clean. 

" _Fucking hell_ , Julian," he laughs, all delight and disbelief. His hand comes up, finds the back of Julian's head, pats it, and Julian grins.

"This is your night. Thought you'd want something sweet," Julian responds. 

Noel giggles and flushes, threading his fingers through Julian's hair. His breath is all in his stomach now, his cock bobbing along with his bellybutton. "Bubblegum, though? They use- _mmmm-_ all the plain?" 

"No," Julian says. "I can put this back." He sucks Noel's nipple into his mouth, rounds his tongue over the bud. "Get the industrial strength if you want." 

Noel's confused, "Industrial strength? What?" dissolves right around the time Julian leans over and bites at his other nipple. His hand tightens to a fist in Julian's hair as he lets off and kisses the flat of Noel's chest right above it. He dusts his lips over Noel's ribs, down his core, over his thigh, and then Noel's smile is dreamy. 

His hands are back tearing at the mattress when Julian pumps a stripe of candy-scented lube down the length of his cock, though. Not that he needs it, really; he's a feast already. He's leaked all over his stomach, but Julian wants him wet and sweet and silky smooth. 

" _Jesus fuck_ ," Noel hisses, and that's before Julian takes him in hand and glides his palm up the length of him, curling over the head of his cock and then back down, coating him. 

His hands are all over Julian then, grabbing at Julian's arms and pushing his hips off the bed, pushing his cock into the circle of Julian's fist. He lets Noel have a little, lets him groan in surprise and pure relief at the feeling, watching the muscle of his stomach undulate as he thrusts, before pressing a hand to his hip to stop him. 

Noel whines, and Julian takes pity. He gives him a pump, and Noel grabs his wrist. 

"More," he stutters. 

"Not yet," Julian says. He can't resist another pump, though, his thumb sweeping over Noel's slit, teasing. He should stop, he knows, and get Noel ready, but he's so fucking gorgeous like this, he can't help it.

Julian gives him a little more. He leans over to suck lightly at the head of his cock, and Noel practically wails. It's wordless and perfect and Julian wants it all to himself. 

There's a little taste of chemical sweet left over on Julian's lips when he leans up and kisses Noel. He licks it out of Julian's mouth like he's starving, grabs at the sides of Julian's face frantically, and Julian knows he can't fuck around any longer. 

When they break apart, there's a hush in the room, a pause in the action in the corner like fresh snow falling in layers over twilight. 

Everyone's stopped. Everyone's watching now.

Julian takes a breath. He folds Noel's shaking legs back up to his chest and reaches for the lube. 

Noel bites his lip and breathes at the touch of Julian's fingertip, circling him slowly in loose spirals, getting him wet and slick. His touch is firm, his breath warm on Noel's skin when he presses his first finger inside. 

"Are they still-?" Noel whispers, and Julian leans to ghost an open mouthed kiss up the length of him, lips and tongue and gentle teasing suction. 

They are, every last one of them with eyes fixed on Noel's body and what Julian's doing to him, but he doesn't want Noel thinking about anything more than how Julian's about to make him feel. 

It works when Julian crooks his finger inside him. A moan ripples out of Noel's chest and Julian feels it go straight to his cock. It's so emphatically heated Julian's surprised it doesn't crack the mirror overhead. One or maybe two of the tangled limbs in the pile in the corner hit the baseboard of the wall. Maybe it's shock, maybe it's surprise, maybe it's delayed orgasm; Julian couldn't possibly care less as he strokes Noel with the pad of his finger, deep and firm.

Noel's hand comes up to his cock, frantic, and Julian's about to move it away, back to the mattress. He doesn't stroke himself, though. He grips himself and squeezes tight around the base. 

"Julian," he gasps, and Julian knows he needs to stop. 

He pulls back, works his finger slow with shallow, smooth thrusts until he can add another one, stretching as he watches Noel's breathing. 

His cock is glistening in the low light when Julian withdraws, slicks himself, and lines up. 

Noel still has his hand on himself, is still holding himself back. He’s breathing hard, his cock beautifully red. The faintest sheen of sweat is under the sparse hair on his chest. Julian waits until he sees Noel’s hand loosen, until he pulls it away. 

Julian can’t help it. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

Noel’s brow crinkles. He reaches for Julian’s hip and pulls him forward. 

He loops Noel’s knees around his shoulders, then Julian teases himself into him. He goes slow, trying to prevent himself from being immediately undone by the feel of him, so hot, tight, and bubblegum slick. He promises himself that he won’t go before Noel. Not tonight.

Noel’s hands fumble forward. He grips Julian’s hips again and pulls him. “Ju,” he gasps. “Want you.” 

Julian wants him, too. He lets Noel set their pace with his insistent tugs, lets him tell him how he wants it. 

“Yes,” Noel gasps, again and again. _Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes_ , with every thrust of Julian’s hips into him. The words dissolve. _Yes_ becomes breath and want, Noel’s pulls become wingbeats of touch. He’s so fucking close. Julian feels it everywhere around him. 

He directs himself slightly shorter, faster. Noel wails and it cuts through Julian like a welding torch through tissue paper. Everything that’s holding him together gets sliced in half by that sound. 

All he can think is that _he_ makes Noel sound like that, makes him feel like that; can make him come apart, and will make him come apart, and then he’ll do it again, and again, and again, because Noel wants it. Anything he wants, if Julian can give it… he can have it. “I love y—” Julian gasps.

And _that’s_ it. The thing that does it. Noel’s face is tortured everywhere that isn’t covered by purple silk. His mouth opens, his hands squeeze Julian’s sides, and he finishes with a moan so fucking pretty that it takes Julian over with it.

It’s all gone, the room, the bed, the mirror, the people who are still watching them or not; there’s nothing left but Noel, and sensation, waves and waves of it, washing over the pair of them. 

Noel’s knees slip off Julian’s shoulders and he falls over him, nuzzles into the corner of his neck, into his hair. He kisses under Noel’s ear, along his jaw. Noel’s fingers tangle into his hair. The pair of them hold onto one another, unable to let go.

It’s a long time before Julian can pick himself up enough to slide his tie off Noel’s eyes. When he finally does, he’s met with the most perfect, shining sight he’s ever seen.

Noel smiles up at him. He traces the side of Julian’s face. “All right?”

Julian laughs. He kisses him. “Lunatic.”

Noel’s gaze slides sideways. “Jesus Christ,” he says.

Julian follows his eyeline. 

He's met with five pairs of glassy eyes staring back. Nearly sated, lazy and sprawled out on the carpet after round one, but still hungry after watching them. _Greedy,_ he thinks, just as he feels Noel shivering. He fishes around on the floor and grabs the first thing he finds. It's his jacket, crumpled up, pushed off the bed who knows when. 

When Julian turns back to him to drape the jacket over his thin shoulders, he realizes Noel's not cold. He's turned on. 

Again. 

He presses himself half-hard against Julian's hip, and looks up at Julian from under his lashes, pink creeping back into his cheeks, the demure bride on her wedding night look back on his face. 

For about half a second, Julian cannot fucking believe him. Even after all of that, he still wants more. Then, he grins. 

He wants more, alright. He's not said another word about making it a sevensome; what he wants is more of _them_. 

Anything he wants, if Julian can give it, right? 

They've got the rest of the night, and nowhere they have to be in the morning. They've got a nice big bed, a selection of lube, and neither of them have used the mirror on the ceiling to its full potential. As for the audience, Julian doesn't care. They've seen the show; they can stick around for the encore performance if they very well please. 

"Shall we try the industrial strength this time?" he whispers against Noel's lips. He smirks, dropping his jacket back on the carpet, letting his eyes and then his hands roam over the long, pale lines of Noel's body.

"No chance," Noel smirks back, shuffling forward, catching Julian's lips in a kiss that turns into one of Julian's hands curling into his hair, the other sliding down his chest to curl around his cock and stroke him fully hard, slowly. 

It's touching and kissing and giggles in between happy, breathy moans after that, until Julian breaks them apart and feels around for the lube, his erection telling him to hurry up, but not helping him find what he's looking for any quicker. 

Noel's not content waiting, though. "Ju, I'm not married to bubblegum," he whispers, leaning up on his elbows and craning his neck to read the labels on the nightstand. "Get us some banana, that'll do. Or cherry, cherry's good. Watermelon, chocolate, just pick anything," he says, reaching for Julian's cock, "and get this in-"

He stops, his mouth dropping open. 

The fivesome on the floor has become something slightly… less. 

What was once a joined tangle of arms and legs and tongues, greedy for a spectacle, has split up, divided, practically disappeared. 

There's a lone bloke shaking out a t-shirt as he strolls towards the door, and a pair of girls with linked arms propping each other up as they slip back into their heels, then down the hall and into the party. 

"What the fuck," Noel breathes. "Where's everyone gone?" 

For one hysterical moment, Julian thinks that surely, some of them must be hiding under the bed, waiting to grab their ankles and pull them into a hidden sex pit when they step down to get dressed. Then the door shuts behind the two girls, the click of the handle snapping him out of the thought. The room is still: it's just him, Noel, and the mirror.

Julian reaches under the pillows at the head of the bed, and like magic, comes out with the lube. 

"They left after you turned down the industrial strength," he says, his lips brushing Noel's before he settles back on the pillows, slicking himself up. He watches Noel watch the movement of his hand. "Several of them seemed quite offended." 

"Their loss," Noel snorts. He meets Julian's eyes, climbs on top, wraps his fist around Julian's prick. "It's a pity, really," Julian shrugs, pressing up into the heat of his hand. "Romance and hedonism, both dead within the same century."

Noel smiles against Julian's lips like he's got something to say about that statement. Julian grins back. Noel drops his dick and rearranges them then, his shoulder blades pressed to Julian's chest. He eases down and drops his feet to the mattress either side of Julian's hips, hums as Julian's hands cup his arse. 

Noel's eyes find his in the mirror as he eases his cock back inside him. His right arm wraps around Noel's chest, his hand resting just below Noel's collarbone. Noel's hand creeps up to meet it.

"Ju, they don't know what they're about to miss."


End file.
